Want
by Midnight17
Summary: Alternative S3. Follows on from Freak Nation
1. Part 1

"Want"

Disclaimer: If I owned Dark Angel, the person who created the virus would have been fired, and Max and Logan would have been given a bit of time to themselves before all hell broke loose. So I suppose I don't, then.

Summary: My version of Season 3.

Section: Serials.

Spoilers/Timeframe: Following Freak Nation. Spoilers for lots of things up until then.

A/N: Thanks to Danni, Minnie, Katie and Alex who all helped edit this. Dedicated also, Emma, for always refusing spoilers and for (finally) being able to read this. Also, to FS for letting me ramble on about the show even though she doesn't watch it. I promise to listen about Debussy for as long as you want to talk. The great M/L, M/A debate still rages on! This is my first ever fanfic, so feedback is welcomed (please be nice) at magelight314@hotmail.com. Italics denote thought. This is a v. short 1st part, but it seemed like a good place to stop. You may be confused by my spelling. It is correct, I'm just from the wrong side of the Atlantic. If anyone can explain O.C and Herbal's slang to me, it would be much appreciated.

Rating: PG-13

*****

It was a week since they had been barricaded in Terminal City. The soldiers weren't very bright. Although they were watching above ground, they still hadn't caught on to the fact that Seattle was honeycombed with underground tunnels. Namely the sewers. Max sat on the space needle and smiled slightly. She thanked God (or the Blue Lady) for that. She didn't think that she could bear to be without her High Place. It was the only place she felt safe. Except from when she was with Logan. _Logan ... I don't want to think about him. Who am I kidding? I think about him all the time, 24/7. It hurts to be with him. To have that terrible want in me, to want dreadfully to touch him – every second of every day. And yet, and yet ... it hurts to be away from him even more. He hasn't caught on yet, thank God, that me and Alec aren't together. If he asked me outright, point blank if I loved him of Alec, I don't think I could lie. I can see the pain flash in his eyes whenever he sees me, or Alec, or the pair of us together. Whenever that happens I just want to throw myself into his arms and kiss the pain away. But I can't. I love him too much. I don't know if I'll ever be able to say it to him. Maybe just thinking it again and again will be enough. Maybe he'll hear._ Max sat there, looking out over the city. Heedless to the solitary tear falling slowly down her face.

*****

Logan stood on the space needle, watching the woman he loved heart, body and soul. Two years ago he would have blanched even at the thought of coming this high up, but now he would climb twice as high, three times, merely for a glimpse of her. She wouldn't come and see him, talk to him, unless it was for something important. So here he was watching her watching the city. _Pathetic_ he thought, and laughed softly, bitterly. He looked again, his eyes drawn like a compass needle towards North. She was crying. Even without X5 enhancements he could see that. He wondered what had upset her so much. _Maybe she and Alec had a fight. Maybe they broke up_. Then he felt ashamed at the hope that had sprung up in his heart. He wanted to take her in is arms and kiss all the pain away. But he couldn't. She wasn't his to kiss. She never had been. The fact that this act would also kill him finally entered his head. _Maybe that would be better. She's lost to me now, and without her what do I have to live for? I want her. I love her, but she doesn't love me. Maybe she never did. Her heart belongs to Alec._

*****

Max stopped crying before she even realised that she had begun. Then she reached up and removed the tear from her face. She smiled bitterly. _That never woulda happened a year or two ago. He screwed me up_. She had not come up here to think about him, and yet she always did. There was no point fighting it. She had come here to have a rest, to shrug of the cares of a leader for a few brief moments, and also to pray. To pray for her family, to hope they weren't feeling the after effects of the destruction of Manticore. They knew where she was now, if they needed help they'd come. If they wanted to help her here they'd join the rank and file. If they'd been caught ... but she didn't think they had. The '09ers had had too much experience at escape and evade. _Krit 'n' Syl, stick together. Jondy my sister, hope your safe. Zane, keep fixin' things my brother - maybe one day we'll be able to fix people's ideas. Leiff, hear your doin' 'k, keep it up. Jace, you found freedom late in life, you 'n' yours keep safe … But who's the 12th? Who escaped with us? I didn't see any of my group in those three months at Manticore, but that don't mean nothin', just that they were on assignment ... or dead. Perhaps ... NO! My sister is dead. I resigned myself to that a long time ago. She is DEAD. If she were alive, she'd've come to see me, but she hasn't, so she isn't. I will not think about her. I will not give myself hope. She's not alive._ "She's not," Max whispered, not realising that she had spoken the words aloud. Logan heard, and frowned in confusion. What was she thinking about? What was making her cry? For a tear had started to fall again. Max was trying desperately to shut off the memories assaulting her. Memories of a person she had not allowed herself to think of for ten years. Memories of luminous grey eyes and a serious face. She had smiled rarely, even for an X5. _Oh my little sister, little Kenna._ There, she had thought it, a name she had not thought for twelve years. _You never had a chance. What did they do to you?_

***

Some distance away, on the edges of a sun-dappled forest, a girl pulled herself up into a tree. She opened a notebook, sighed softly and started to write.


	2. Part 2

A/N: Things get stranger in this part. We go into an AU (although it's still as accurate as I can make it). If you're confused at the end, don't worry. The idea is for you to have more questions than answers, and there are answers (I promise). Feedback is very, very welcome.

****

***

The girl walked out of the large double doors and breathed in the dawn air. The sun was bright even though it was only six in the morning. She walked lazily across the large green lawn towards a line of trees. There was a tall oak on the edge of the wood and she smiled at it briefly, like someone greeting an old friend. The girl is tall, around 5'9". She is thin, overly so, but the thinness is all muscle. Something about her says that she doesn't get enough to eat. She is wearing dark jeans and a grey, long sleeved round-necked top. There is a gold chain round her neck, the pendant covered by the material. Her hair is light brown, the colour of milk chocolate. It is long and thick, falling in waves to below her shoulders. Her skin is tanned, probably from sitting in trees, but her cheeks - which look as though they should have a rosy glow, are lily-white. Her eyes are steely grey. They shine with an inner light. She has bags under her eyes - it seems as though she has not slept a full night in weeks - but her gaze also shows determination, a spirit that will not be put under. They suggest that she will keep going until she literally drops from exhaustion. She is carrying a notebook and a fountain pen in one hand. The girl lifts up her arms to pull herself into the tree and as she does so her right sleeve falls down. There are a set of cuts placed down the side of her inner forearm. We can see that there are at least six. There is slight scar tissue around each one, showing that they have been there for a while and are never allowed to fully heal. She looks around eighteen, but she is older. Her eyes show that much.

She settles herself into the nook between the main trunk and a weighty branch. Her tall frame fits it in a way that suggests she has been sitting there for years. She opens the notebook and takes the lid off the fountain pen. It is a very good quality one, pre-pulse, obviously long used, but well loved and well looked after. She sighed softly and started to write.

_I'm not sure I see the point of this. He says to write down everything that happens, and that has happened. Everything that has frightened me or hurt me mixed in with the day's news. It could take some time, but if it rids me of the nightmares ... I'm willing to try anything. I've been having 'em for a month, after well over a year bad dream free. I think I'd be able to deal pretty quickly, 'cept I can't remember them. I've started sleeping curled up under the bed again; something I haven't let myself do since I was a child. Something I've never even wanted to do here. I turned up on the doorstep seven years ago, aged thirteen, and it's the only place I've ever felt safe. Mind you, that was only after I got them to make a number of changes to security. I like it here. The people are moral, honest, and they know all I'm going through which makes life a lot easier. Life is good here, almost idyllic. I don't think that I've ever been so contented. But outside these walls, outside this place, the world is dangerous and frightening. It is not a good time to be one of us. Not that it ever was, or perhaps ever will be. Monumental changes are taking place, and I am sorry to say that here we have nothing to do with them. It is, I suppose, my only shadow. Although not being able to see my pack …_

The girl glanced up as someone called her name, and we see that the notebook is not covered with English, but instead with a mix of Breeding Cult script (Minoan) and Ancient Greek. The girl sighs again, shuts the notebook and flashes her watch across an infrared scanner on the front. The book locks with an audible click. 

__

Jonathon. He's ... a friend, I suppose. He's calling me. I'd better climb down. He's going to see me anyway. The girl glances at her watch and her eyes widen fractionally in surprise. _No wonder. Seven o'clock, it's time for breakfast. _She tucked the pen and notebook in her pocket, and gripped the branch between both hands. She swung herself down and dropped the ten feet to the ground. Jonathon smiled at her.

"Still climbing trees? Are you ever going to grow up?"

"Evidently not," she replied, meeting his gaze and his challenge. There was no answering smile on her face.

"Come on. He wants to see you."

She was surprised, again, although she did not show it. "Before breakfast? Do you know why?"

Jonathon shook his head. "What were you doing?"

"Thinking," lying was technically against her code, but this was not actually lying; she had been thinking. She had also been writing. So this was … withholding information.

"About your pack again?" He waited for her to speak.

She nodded. This was also true. She had been thinking about them, among other things, but then how could she not? "I owe them. I care about them. They care about me. They got me out."

"I know. I miss mine, and most of them weren't that nice to me. It must be tough, to be as strong as you are and have to be away from them."

She nods again, this time in acknowledgement, although she does think that this question is somewhat redundant. _He _knows_ that it's tough, he's _seen_ the affects of …_ She managed to cut that thought off before it overwhelmed her.

He reached down and brought her chin up so that she was forced to meet his gaze. Her pulse rate almost doubled, and pre-existing barriers were brought up as she used this as an exercise in controlling her pulse rate.

"Just remember that there are other people who care about you. Go see him."

With that he walked away. The girl stayed where she was for a moment. She shook her head slightly in a mixture of wonder and terror. No one did that to her. _Jonathon. _She sighed heavily and tapped the notebook. _There is going to be a whole chapter about him in here. He frightens me. A lot. I wonder what He wants. Guess I'll have to find out._ Then she smiled slightly to herself as she started walking across the lawn. _As a plus point, I'm going to miss breakfast._

***

"You wanted to see me?" The girl asked. She did not say 'Sir', but that was implied. As she shut the door behind her, the pendant underneath her top slipped forward. We can see that it is the Lady of the Sacred Heart.

The old man smiled at her affectionately, but his manner when he spoke was all business. "Yes. Have a seat, my dear. Leah thought it might be a good idea if we had breakfast brought up. What would you like?"

_Damn._ She thought, but aloud said serenely, "Toast and a boiled egg, please."

Leah served the girl, the man and finally herself. Leah is twenty-eight. She is a slender woman of medium height, with light blonde hair, but large dark eyes. She can see very well in the dark. She, like the girl is dressed casually in black bootleg trousers and a blue turtleneck jumper.

"We were wondering," she began "what your thoughts were on the Seattle situation."

The girl is picking at the food on her plate, trying to decide how little she can eat without being caught. She respects both this man and his daughter, and had abided by their orders while living in their establishment. Finally, she had to answer.

"You know what I think." She would look neither of them in the eye.

"Only in general, my dear." It was the old man who spoke this time. "I'd like to hear it in your own words."

The girl remained outwardly composed, but in her thoughts she frowned slightly. This was unlike them. "I think that we should be helping them. I think that we should be there. I think that if we're not, then we will essentially be committing mass murder."

The old man tried, and failed to hide his smile from her. Although she doubted anyone else would have seen it. _I've got him on side. Who's this being played out for?_ The girl shifted slightly in her seat, and looked around, very quietly, very surreptitiously. She saw a man standing behind her. _Ah. That makes sense._ When Leah spoke again, she met the girl's eyes and a flash of understanding passed between them. _She's with me in this too._

"I believe you have pack there."

"One member. Many have more." _You _know_ I do. When I first arrived, he wanted me to bring her and the rest of them in. You were for it too. It was the man standing behind me who met the idea with forceful resistance._

"Yes … well … Yours happens to be ... quite influential. We think that the Council should convene to discuss this matter. We would like you to present the case for action in Seattle."

There was no reaction on the girl's face. Her thoughts however ...

_Oh, my. Oh, my_ All coherency was lost for a moment, and the girl picked up her glass of milk and took a sip to give herself time to reorder her thoughts. _They want ME to speak. They've never let me speak. _This was because the girl knew people. She knew how to manipulate them and how to get what she wanted. She never used it here. People almost always obeyed her orders without question anyway (much to her annoyance), but she'd never been allowed to speak in Council. _They must really want action in Seattle. I wonder though, why he let them pick me. It was folly. This does NOT make sense. And yet … if I were to give the speech … I could get the pack together again._

She smiled very slightly and said, finally, "I'd love to."


	3. Part 3

"Excuse me, Sir, but would you like tea or coffee?"

White glanced up at the stewardess, giving her the barest flick of his attention before turning back to his notes.

"Coffee, black. And a brandy."

One of the positive sides to the public knowing about his hunt for transgenics was taking advantage of their tax dollars for such luxuries as first class flights. Of course, technically his mission today had nothing to do with his government-approved vendetta. He was looking for his son. Originally White had been forced to agree with the priesthood, that his son had died after his exposure. However, a team of his own devising and a lot of surveillance footage had proved them all wrong. The stewardess poured his coffee, splashed the brandy into a glass and backed away slowly and carefully.

__

That man is frightening. The look on his face could kill.

White ignored her. He was focused on Thula and what had happened a week ago. Their "failure". Of course, it was entirely her fault, but the Conclave didn't think that. Their meeting with the priestess had been … disconcerting.

__

"Fe'nos tol, Ames, Thula."

"Fe'nos tol, Priestess."

"You have failed us. You have failed to dispose of 452. She could ruin everything."

Ames felt obliged to defend himself. "If I had been allowed to work alone –"

"You would have failed. Your record is hardly perfect, brother." His insinuation of everything being her fault irked Thula.

The priestess cut her off with a look. "You have failed. However, the Conclave feels that the situation is not irretrievable. You will be given one last chance to prove yourselves. Do so, or face the consequences." With that she walked away. Thula and White looked at each other both seriously annoyed that they hadn't rid themselves of the other.

So, here he was. Slightly surprised that he hadn't been disposed of, and attempting to think of a foolproof plan for winning a battle against genetically engineered, fully trained "perfect" soldiers. Of course, there were weaknesses in the Manticore style. He intended to exploit them.

***

The girl looked up as Catherine and Jonathon entered the lab. Catherine was slightly shorter than the girl and her bone structure was much finer, making her look tiny and unthreatening, Her unblemished olive skin, straight raven black hair and eyes that hovered between being hazel and brown, made Catherine look suspiciously like a china doll. We mustn't let that fool us. Catherine is _tough_.

"You weren't at breakfast." The tone was faintly accusing. With her eyes flashing and hair swirling like a malevolent black cloud, Catherine is now reminiscent of an angry kitten. Always remember: kittens have claws.

The girl carried on with what she was doing. Her students would be here in a few minutes and they would need their equipment ready. "I ate. Ask Leah." It was a game they played, each trying to make the other give in. The girl usually won. Catherine was good at manipulation, but the girl was better. They stared at each other. Jonathon had been watching with mounting amusement. Now, he laughed.

"So what did he want?"

Both girls looked at him, annoyed. Catherine even showed it.

"None of your business."

"Come on, I delivered the message. I deserve to know why."

Catherine glanced at the girl who shrugged imperceptibly. "It's nothing secret. It – is being put to the Council that we should go to Seattle. I have been asked to speak for."

"Who's against?" It was Catherine who asked. She knew the answer was important.

"Paul…" The girl's tone was careful, considering.

"They're letting _you_ speak!" Jonathon was, quite frankly, shocked. The girls ignored him. There were currents of power running between them that he couldn't quite see and could certainly never understand. "Hello? Are you two listening?"

Catherine looked at him in irritation. She took a deep breath, and was about to start shouting. Fortunately, the door opened and two people burst into the room – averting the brewing argument. It is a boy and a girl. Their names are Kith and Kin respectively. They are fifteen years of age. She looks a little older than that, he a little younger. She's tall, willowy. Her hair, a light brown – close to becoming blonde falls almost to her waist, but is caught up in a thick braid. He's taller and thicker set, shoulders already beginning to broaden and muscles beginning to show, but not full grown yet, not by a long stretch.

"You're early," the girl says mildly. From the way these two burst in you'd expect a legion of GIs hot on their heels, or at least a fire.

The pair glance at each other and there is a slight undercurrent of them thinking very fast on their feet. The boy shrugs slightly "Wanted to get an early start," Kith replies eventually to the unasked question hanging heavy in the air. "We didn't know you had company. We can come back …"

"No, that's ok. Go get yourselves set up. I'll give you your _new_ assignment in a minute." Her soft smile tells them she knows that they have an ulterior motive for being early. Then she catches sight in Kin's wrist. It is bruised and already beginning to swell. The jagged notch of bone had almost pierced the skin. "Kin! Hospital wing. Now." The girl's tone brooks no argument. Kin decides to give one anyway.

"No … Please. They're, like, that far away from separating us," She reaches unconsciously for Kith's hand. He gives it readily. Kin's eyes are wide. She looks as though she's about to cry.

The girl watches her for a few seconds, then "Are you three years old?"

Kin is caught off guard. She frowns in confusion "Err … No".

"Then take that look of your face, never use fillers in my hearing again and remember to whom you are speaking."

Kin sighed. The look of utmost innocence mixed with fear and anguish vanished. "Alright".

"I thought we were past that."

Kin shrugged. "It was worth a try. Please, will you let us set it?"

The girl looks at them, speculating. "Constructive argument, please."

"You are not seriously considering –" Jonathon started angrily. Then he flinched as Catherine hit him. Hard.

"Shut up. She's teaching."

The lesson (or argument) ignored them. It went through languages faster than traffic lights went through colours. Eventually, "You will be able to keep it secret?"

"No one will notice. We swear."

"Alright, an exercise then. Kith, set it. Kin, do you want pain killers?"

The younger girl shakes her head. "They'd slow down my response times."

"Correct, but so might the pain. Remember, if you are found out … you're on your own."

The girl observes as Kith pushes the bone into place. Kin whimpers, but does not cry out. Catherine had been watching in amusement, Jonathon in a mixture of disbelief and anger. "I cannot believe you just did that. It was completely irresponsible. You know the rules –"

The girl cut him off. "Yes, I do, and so do they. They'll be punished, don't worry about that."

Kith and Kin, both eavesdropping, winced. Jonathon opened his mouth to argue, but Catherine averted the oncoming-shouting match by saying pointedly,

"Well, we'll get out of your way. Both got classes to prepare." As she pulled Jonathon out of the room, Catherine spoke again. "So, how much of that speech have you written?"

"Are you kidding? He asked me, what, twenty minutes ago?" The girl asked. Catherine merely raised an eyebrow in response. The girl lowered her eyes "Half." Catherine laughed, and the first unplanned, unrehearsed, _real_ smile we have seen broke out on the girl's face. It is warm, removes the closed-off look from her eyes, and lights her up like a candle.

"I'll see you at lunch."

***

Max had long since stopped crying when she heard footsteps approaching. The rhythm and timbre of them identified it being Alec behind her. Since telling him about Ben, their relationship had improved, but she wasn't sure she could deal with him right now. Logan felt an excruciating pain coarse through him when Alec arrived. I should leave. _I don't want to see this_, he thought, but he was unable to tear his eyes away. It was as though they were magnetically attracted to the tableau before him. _I'm just a glutton for punishment, aren't I? _Then he heard Max speak, and it wasn't with the smile he had expected, or the seductive note he had tortured himself with her using for Alec. Her voice was flat, emotionless.

"I told you. I come up here to be alone."

Alec settled himself beside her, put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. _Yep. Definitely a glutton for punishment _Logan thought to himself.

"Which you've been doing an awful lot lately. Every night, in fact, since the Jam Pony thing."

Max let out an emotionless half laugh, "You been spying on me?"

"Hey, I didn't spend an extra twelve years at Manticore for nothing, you know." The corners of Max's lips twitched upwards. _Thankyou! A sign of life_ Alec relaxed very slightly. She had had such a blank expression on his face when he had come up, he had been worried - frightened, almost.

"You need to sleep Max," he said gently.

__

Good thought Logan. _He's keeping his promise. He's taking care of her._

"No, I don't. Shark DNA, remember?"

__

And she's being stubborn, as usual.

"Yes, you do. Four hours every five days."

Max looked at him quizzically. He shrugged. "There was someone like you in my pa - group."

Max's head snapped up, the fury evident in her eyes. "Why did you use that word?" Her voice was harsh, full of malice.

Alec had never seen her that angry, but Logan had seen her more so. Once, only once, when he had cut their dinner in favour of Eyes Only. You had to start worrying when she shut her emotions down, and she was close to that state now. _Tread carefully Alec._

"What word?" _I'll play innocent. She might back off._

"Pack." Max almost spat the word. Alec was shocked. 

"I didn't say pack." He hadn't. He'd caught himself in time.

"Don't play innocent with me. You were going to say it, but you changed your mind. Why did you use that word?"

__

OK. Time for tactic two. Tell the truth. He shrugged. "I don't know. It was something someone called us when we were young. He - he died."

Normally Max would have expressed regret. She would have pursued the catch in his voice and the emotion behind it. The emotion he kept hidden by his happy-go-lucky exterior, so much - too much of the time. However, right now she was too angry to think straight, let alone string interrogative sentences together.

"Don't use it again," she thundered before storming off the space needle.

Alec was left with a very confused expression on his face. "What the _hell _was that all about?"

__

Yes, echoed Logan. _What the hell was that all about?_

***

White straightened his tie as he stepped off the plane. The international airport in Halifax, Nova Scotia was not exactly crowded, but appearance was important. After all, he was a public figure now and someone might recognise him. He allowed himself a small smile. In less than an hour he was going to be reunited with his son. After all, he knew where to find Ray now. 452 and her holier-than-thou friends were not the sort to keep family apart, so he was pretty damned certain Ray had been sent to live with his aunt, Lily. They were here, in Halifax, 4,342 kilometres away from Seattle, about as far away as someone could be without leaving the continent.

White had never been to his sister-in-law's house and, in fact had not event seen her in at least ten years. It had taken a lot of effort, but after much manipulation White had been able to make sure that neither sister trusted the other enough for Wendy to consider inviting Lily to the wedding, nor for Lily to have even contemplated accepting. White was only carrying hand luggage, and not even much of that, so he quickly exited the airport and hailed a taxi. He could have had a Government Issue black sedan set up, but that was too conspicuous for his purposes.

"Where to?" The driver asked. White consulted his palmtop.

"Clemton and Park. You know it?"

"Sure, I know all the streets. It's quite a way, it'll cost you."

The drive was half an hour of silence. There was not much traffic, for which White was thankful. He checked his watch. No wonder the streets were clear, it was almost eleven o'clock – everyone was already at work. White was not sure whether Ray would be at home or school. They had surveillance photos, from when Ray had first moved here, of him going to and from school, but he had been noticeably absent for the last few weeks. Perhaps he was sick … perhaps the symptoms had come back … perhaps he had died. White hated not knowing. He hated the fact that his little boy had been taken away from him, was being taught Lord-knows-what at a private school.

So here he was. Out of habit, he checked his gun. It was not like he needed it, unless there was a transgenic about. It was only there as cover. Well, well, well … Lily had a very nice house. Large, brick face, Hell – there was even a white picket fence. White opened the gate and walked up the short path to the front door. He leant casually, but threateningly against the doorframe and rang the bell.

***

The girl glanced up as her students filed in. _Deep breath … Here we go._

***

The door opened. "Ames," The surprise in her voice was unmistakable, but … he thought that he could also hear something else – fear, perhaps? What had they told her?

The woman was very like her name suggested. She had a slight build, and pale skin – she would burn rather than tan. Yet her hair was as dark as Wendy's and her eyes were darker still. She was dressed for comfort, but she still managed to look chic and stylish. Her body showed shock, but that soon gave way to anger. She folded her arms across her chest.

"What do you want, Ames?"

"My son, Lily. Where is he?"

"Don't be absurd Ames. I've never even seen the boy."

She was a _good_ liar, she barely had a tell. If White hadn't known better, he'd have thought she was telling the truth. However, he did know better. He looked at her, considering. 452 et al would have told her that he had killed Wendy, so she knew he wouldn't hesitate to kill her … He drew back his jacket slightly so that his gun was visible to her.

"Why don't you invite me in?"

Lily wasn't stupid and she could think pretty fast on her feet. _He wouldn't hurt me out here. It's too public, too many people. Oh, wake up Lily! He's government. He can do whatever the hell he wants and they can cover it up. He killed my sister. I will not give in to him _Her lips were dry, but she refused to lick them, That would be a sign of fear.

"I don't think so."

White was becoming impatient, and he really didn't like it. So, instead of patiently asking questions and manipulating the woman into giving him the answers, right there on the doorstep, he slammed a hand over her mouth and pushed her into the house. Lily was so frightened and it happened so fast, that she was unable to cry out. White manoeuvred them both into the living room and forced her to sit on the sofa.

"Where is Ray, Lily?"

Lily managed to keep her composure. "He's not here, if that's what you're asking."

"Then where is he? I know he _was_ here, so don't deny that you know where he is now."

"But I _don't_ know."

White was angry, but kept his cool outwardly. He slowly removed his gun from his holster and weighed it thoughtfully in his hand. Then, quite suddenly, he turned it on Lily in one fluid movement.

"Tell me where he is."

Lily was not a trained soldier, nor a spy. She was a normal person. With a gun turned on her, her heart rate went thorough the roof, and she came very close to panicking.

"Tell me." The command was flat, menacing. White was attempting to make her lose the rest of her control. If he did, she would answer anything he put to her.

Lily was incredibly torn. She wanted to protect her nephew, as she had been unable to protect her sister, but the thought of losing one's own life is not easy for anyone. "I don't know exactly," she managed.

"Tell me what you know."

__

It will be alright she thought desperately. _They said they could protect him._

So, despite some misgivings, she told White the truth. "Two people came, an old man and a young woman. They said … they said that there were things they could teach him I couldn't."

"Where?"

"They said I didn't need to know. They said it would put me in danger," Lily gathered herself together enough to glare at Ames. "They were right."

"Describe them."

"Well dressed. He walked with a stick, she was blonde…" She was trying to think of something else, but her concentration kept being disrupted by the idea of cold steel in her head.

We can see a flash of recognition in White's eyes when she says this. Lily, however, untrained as she is, can not. "Did they give you a way to contact them?"

***

Once the class had settled down, the girl stood up, walked round to the front of her desk and leant on it.

"I've been teaching most of you for three years now, ever since _he_ first decided to lighten his work load. You were my first class. You have progressed, faster than I or anyone else expected. Quite frankly, I've taught you everything I can, you now know pretty much everything I do about biology, chemistry and all their applications; biochemistry, retroviral engineering, cloning, genetics, microbiology … So, I think it's time we used one of those applications. Now, I'm not going to let you clone yourselves, or create your very own perfect diplomat in the middle of this lab … " There was a burst of laughter, "But I am willing to listen to suggestions."

***

"No"

Ames removed the safety on the gun. Doing so made a disquieting clicking sound.

"Speed dial six. A colleague's cell phone." The words came out in a rush. Lily was terrified. She thought that if her heart beat any faster, she was likely to have a heart attack and die.

"Did they say you could see him?"

"If – if I wanted they'd set it up."

"Where?" That question, again. White was sick of asking it.

Lily shrugged. "I don't know. It's never come up."

White glanced at the phone. He pressed a button to put it on speaker. "Calm down. Phone them. Do not give any indication that something's wrong."

Lily took a couple of steadying breaths, than slowly and carefully she leaned over, picked up the receiver and speed dialled six.

***

"Cold cure."

"Cure for cancer."

"Bring back an extinct species."

"Ooh! Ooh! Create a poison that will wipe out everyone on the planet!"

Kith and Kin rolled their eyes.

_There's always one_ the girl thought before vetoing _that_ suggestion.

The kid who had spoken pouted "I didn't say we were going to _use_ it."

The girl's cell phone (kept on vibrate during class, and rarely answered) started ringing. She pulled it out. The caller ID said 'LILY'. "Kith, if you'd be so kind as to write the sensible suggestions on the board, we can vote on it when I get back."

She opened the door and walked into the corridor, painted Quite-a-Nice shade of cream, before answering, "Hello?"


End file.
